


To Boldly Go

by CaptainLyssa



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst, Consequence of First Contact, Drama, Episode Addition: Unexpected, First Contact, Gen, Intrigue, Other, Past Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLyssa/pseuds/CaptainLyssa
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE. This episode rewrite (Unexpected) started as a simple what if the Xyrillian’s couldn’t get the kid out of Trip because too much time had passed. It has turned into a psychological journey as the consequences of interspecies first contact is realised. Like it or not, Trip was raped and impregnated. The crew of the Enterprise must learn the consequences of ‘boldly going’ and finally understand the Vulcan’s caution.
Relationships: Jonathan Archer & Charles "Trip" Tucker III, Jonathan Archer & Phlox, Jonathan Archer & T'Pol
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	1. Confined to Quarters

**Author's Note:**

> I managed to find two works dealing with this episode. One ended up very sad, the other locating the Xyrillian vessel after the child was a month old. The only other work deals with Ah'len tracking Enterprise down and inviting her daughter's Frist Father to her naming ceremony. All were great, but I wanted to put my stamp on the idea, which came when I wondered, what if the Xyrillian's couldn't safely removed the embryo?
> 
> However, in the second chapter Archer realised something I've been playing with in the back of my mind. Like it on not, Trip was raped and impreginated by Ah'len. This was never dealt with in the show, just glossed over.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have made slight but significant changes to this chapter. Once I started writing chapter two, Archer and Phox took what should have been a short story and turned it upside down. I guess the more I though about the premise, the more I realised how little the writers really considered the consequences of Trips Pregnancy and how it would affect him psychologically. Thus the change in rating and direction. I hope anyone who has experience unwanted sexual attentions understands that it is, at the very least harassment, at worst RAPE, and gets the appropriate help to deal with the aftermath.

“No,” Phlox stated emphatically. “Absolutely not.”

“What the hell?” demanded the irate Chief Engineer. “This is my life we’re talking about here. We’ve found the Xyrillian’s. I need to get over to that ship and see if they can remove this…this thing from me!”

“I do not know how the mirazine will affect you or the foetus,” Phlox explained, once again, in the calmest tone possible. His patient reacted by jumping down from the biobed and pacing the length of sickbay.

“Look, Doc,” Trip paused by the automatic doors that wouldn’t open, appearing ready to bolt at the first possible opportunity, “I already have to see you every eight hours. How in the hell can I get my job done without removing this…this thing? I told you last night, I’ve worked years to achieve my position as Chief Engineer. I’m not about to let all that hard work and effort got to waste. You said this kid isn’t even mine. I’m just the host for some species I never knew existed two weeks ago. I didn’t ask for it, and I sure as hell don’t recall doing the horizontal tango to get in this condition. I don’t want any of those postnatal responsibilities you talked about. Heck, I never was even that attracted to its mother. I thought I was playing a game in the name of diplomacy.”

“Commander,” Phlox’s tone sharpened to get through to the obviously frantic man who refused to face him, “I cannot help you at this time without more information.” Turning to the face of reason, the Doctor explained to the Captain and First Officer, “nor do I want Mr. Tucker to experience decompression, especially for a full six hour cycle. I have no idea how the process will affect either of them. Not to mention the lack of food, water and hygiene facilities in a confined space filled with air that burns Human lungs. Mr. Tucker would dehydrate, become hypoglycemics and place both himself and the baby at risk, not to mention possibly causing an interspecies incident. Once I have contacted the Xyrillian’s, I should know enough to resolve this situation.”

“Captain!” Trip pivoted towards his friend in agitation, looking for support and found none.

“Trip,” Jon consoled, trying to place a hand on his engineers’ shoulder. The Commander shook it off with a scowl. “I have to take the doctors medical advice. We’ve all noticed how much food you’re putting away lately or vomiting up. How are you going to cope in a three-metre-long tube that’s barely big enough for you to sit for so many hours?”

“You were affected by increased anxiety levels,” T’Pol reminded the now still engineer who glared at his senior officers, “during decompression eleven days ago. You will have to endure the same environment for twice as long. I have also noticed you increased need to hydrate and urinate with the length of your pregnancy. Your mood is often, unstable.”

“Meaning,” Trip challenged, exclusively reserving his glare for the Vulcan.

“Trip, the decisions been made on medical grounds. I’m sorry, but you’re not fit to transfer to the Xyrillian vessel. You’ll have to speak with Ah’len and sort this out,” Archer decided. “I’ll have Hoshi set up an audio-visual link when you’re ready so you can explain the situation in the privacy of your quarters. Talk to her and find out if there’s a way to extract this life form without harming either of you.”

“I would like to discuss further treatment with their doctor,” Phlox reminded the engineer as he made for the door. “Any information on Xyrillian foetal development would aid the management of your condition, Commander.”

Cursing under his breath, Trip tore out of sickbay the moment Phlox opened the door and made his way towards his quarters, scowling at anyone who dared glance his way. This just gets better and better, Trip told himself. Pacing for several minutes, he finally got his anger under control. Sitting at his desk, Commander Tucker opened a channel, requesting a private communication with Ah’len. More than a little disgruntled, Trip realised his feelings toward the woman had changed. He now felt anger that she’d put him in this position. At first, the shock consumed him. Then, in typical Tucker style, Trip made a joke of his pregnancy. As the day’s continued and he could no longer hide his bulge under his uniform, reality set in. It was easier to blame T’Pol for telling anyone than face the truth. Ah’len had done this to him without his knowledge or consent.

Hell, the thought came unbidden, I been violated in the worst possible way.

“Commander Tucker. How did you find us?” Ah’len enquired the moment her image appeared on Trips monitor. Yellow eyes drank in the sight of the Human she still found attractive. On this occasion, it didn’t look as if he wanted to be considered appealing.

“It wasn't easy,” Trip responded with a reluctant smile, not really sure how to open this particular conversation with the recent revelations still swirling in his mind.

“The reactor worked for six days,” Ah’len explained into the lengthening pause, “then went offline again.” She could not read the Human’s mood. Something had changed in his facial expression. He was not as open or accommodating as he’d been while working on their teraphaic warp drive.

“Our Science Officer detected a change in your mode of propulsion a few hours ago,” Trip stated easily. “We concluded you’d dropped out of warp and something might have happened to the coil cohesion. It wasn't hard to locate your vessels signature in subspace. Besides,” a little embarrassed, Tucker sighed, “we’ve been kind of motivated to find you.”

“I don't understand,” Ah’len tilted her head. “At impulse we will return to Xyrilla in a little over four weeks. Our ship will then undergo an engine exchange. There is no longer a need for your assistance.”

“Glad to hear it,” Trip stated, wondering if this was his chance to bring up the real issue. Some of the emotions roiling around inside his head didn’t really want to face the consequences of his short stay on the alien ship. Yet, he knew he had no choice. Attempting humour, his voice came out flat. “I guess that means you won’t be meeting any new species and inviting them to help you repair those coils anytime soon. Probably just as well.”

When the woman looked at him inquisitively, Commander Tucker closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Ah’len’s reaction as he lifted the long-sleeved shirt to show the bulge on the left side of his chest, or feel his own shame. Obvious raised and red striae gravidarum indicated how quickly the foetus had grown in eight days. The size of the protrusion didn't indicate Trip's level of psychological or physical pain. The latter caused by decalcification of the Commander's sixth and seventh rib.

“I had no idea this could happen with another species,” the Xyrillian stated, almost in wonderment.

“Well,” Trip responded with a sigh, his blue eyes resting on the alien woman and attempting to hide his sudden anger, “neither did I. In humans, it’s the female who carries the baby and it’s made up of both parent’s genetic material. And, ah, it takes a lot more than sticking hands in a box of holographic, telepathic pebbles.” At Ah’len’s confused expression, Tucker asked, “isn’t that how you knocked me up? On the boat, when we played that game where you read my mind?”

Pulling her head twice to the right and making a high-pitched sound seemed to be the Xyrillian way of laughing when she finally understood his meaning. “No, that is not how this occurred.”

“Then how did I end up like this,” the engineer demanded, suddenly furious.

“If I'd known,” Ah’len seemed lost for words.

“You know what,” Trip shook his head in defeat, “it really doesn’t matter. There’s no need to explain Xyrillian biology, but I would be real appreciative if you could get this out of me, assuming it's safe.”

“I will make arrangements for you to come aboard our ship,” Ah’len announced.

“No can do,” Trip’s irritation returned. “Doctor’s orders. Phlox wants any information on Xyrillian pregnancies before he’ll allow me out of his sight.”

“We do not have a doctor,” Ah’len responded, “nor is one required in this case. Every Xyrillian is born with the knowledge and instincts of bearing, birthing and caring for a child. If it is still early enough, transferring the embryo to another host is a simple process.”

“Look, I’m not a Xyrillian or a doctor,” Trip felt his stomach sinking, “but Phlox stopped calling the baby that a few days ago. Foetus is the terms he’s using now.”

Picking up a device and holding it up to the monitor, Ah’len explained, “a simple scan will determine the stage of development and if my child can be safely transferred. I will have Trena’l contact your Captain. Your doctor must send the report as quickly as possible.”

“Ah’len,” Trip cried before she terminated the call, not wanting to waste any time, “we have a transporter. Just put the scanner down and I’ll have one of my engineers beam it over. After we have the device, I’ll get Hoshi to contact your ship so you can speak directly to our doctor while he completes the examination.”

A quarter of an hour later, scanner in hand, the Denobulan held the screen up so Ah’len could see the results. Trip sat in the background on a biobed, his heart in his mouth. Even the Captain had attended, standing beside his friend and offering moral support.

“If I am reading this correctly,” Phlox smirked, “she looks very healthy.”

“Her development has occurred more rapidly than anticipated in your species,” Ah'len commented. “I believe it is too late to transfer my daughter to another host without harm. At this rate, she will erupt soon after we arrive at Xyrillia.”

“Erupt?” Trip’s cry was accompanied by a crash and Archer attempting to keep his engineer on the biobed. The last hour had been too much for the Engineer.

“Nothing to fear,” Phlox sounded faintly amused as he headed towards the patient. Checking Commander Tucker, he added for the benefit of the Xyrillian’s, “fainting is a known side effect of human pregnancy.”


	2. Theorising

“Wait,” Captain Jonathon Archer looked up from the biobed holding his friend. The Xyrillian Captain and Engineer’s visage on the monitor in sickbay held Enterprise’s doctor spellbound. Ah’len stopped describing Xyrillian reproductive biology mid-sentence as Phlox and Trena’l glared at the interruption. “You’re telling us those holographic pebbles are not the reason my Chief Engineer wound up pregnant.”

“I was led to believe,” Ah’len stated, eyes wide and tone incredulous, “your species does not have the technology to re-sequence photons but understands the concept. There were not real, Captain. It would have been impossible to transfer matter in the chamber.”

“If that’s true,” Archer argued, “how could Trip feel the sand of your homeworld running through his hands? Commander Tucker spoke eloquently about your holographic chamber when he returned to _Enterprise_.”

Phlox seemed to understand the direction of the Captain’s thoughts, “It is important I know how and when were you able to transfer enough genetic material to result in a viable pregnancy.” Ah’len and Trena’l glanced at each other, causing warning bells in the doctor’s mind. “The act of procreation in humans is quiet an intimate process, requiring the consent of both participants. It involves time and the exchange of body fluids.”

“Commander Tucker,” Ah’len once again turned to her companion, sharing a consprital glance, “told me of your mating practices when we spoke earlier. The offspring carried by the mother, a genetic combination of both parents. Is this form of reproduction unique to humans?”

“Not really,” Phlox stated with a huff, instinctively knowing where this conversation would terminate. “I was under the impression; your species has made contact with a number of others? It is quite a common practice among bipedal hominids in this quadrant.”

“Doc,” Archer once again interrupted, understanding the doctor’s insinuations and not wanting his friend to realise the sordid details, “I think Trip’s coming around and I don’t think he needs to hear this right now.”

“Agreed.” Phlox picked up a hypospray and cartridge while asking the Xyrillian’s about a sedative that was compatible with the foetus. Once the Chief Engineer continued to sleep peacefully, the Captain let the Denobulan doctor extract the information they need to care for Commander Tucker.

“Rape,” Archer fumed once the Xyrillian’s signed off. “On Earth this would be considered rape. That child was implanted in Tip without his knowledge or consent. Ah’len knew what she was doing, encouraged it. You heard her, she found Commander Tucker attractive and in their culture that justified her actions. Just because he admitted to liking the feeling, didn’t give her the right to mate with a member of my crew, to experiment with a new species on first contact. She’s tried this with other species in the past without inducing a pregnancy. She should have gained Trip’s consent and told him of the possible consequences.”

“Informing Mr. Tucker how the pregnancy occured,” Pholx shook his head sadly, “at this point would further harm is mental state. I believe our engineer is putting on a brave face, Captain. He understands the gravity of the situation, as our discussion during the evening meal yesterday proved. He may even subconsciously feel violated without realising it. I’m afraid the shock and hormones have played havoc on all his major systems. Once they settle, the Commander may finally realise the underlying cause of his psychological destress.”

“There’s no why you can get this kid out of him,” Jon demanded, “without hurting Trip?”

Phlox shook his head sadly. “The equivalent of a human placenta is attached to the main coronary artery through the lining of the heart. Removing it would harm the foetus and possibly kill the Commander. The demineralisation of the sixth and seventh rib has started physiological fractures that will need to be repaired once the child erupts. As Commander Tucker’s delivery date nears, I will confine him to sickbay. He cannot expel this child without surgical intervention. I’m afraid our Chief Engineer is in for a difficult time.”

“What is your advice,” Archer enquired. “Should we follow the Xyrillian vessel to their homeworld?"

“I may require their advice,” Phlox stated sadly, “and I would prefer to be in orbit when the child is born. We will have to speak with Commander Tucker and assess his opinion. In cases such as these, it is often better to hand the infant over as quickly as possible and then depart. We can cope with the repercussions later. Especially as there is little to no chance of removing the foetus without serious harm to my patient. I’m afraid this baby is going to be born, whether we like it or not.”

“What a mess,” Jon held his head in his hands. “I need to speak with T’Pol about this. Not that the Vulcans will have a ready-made procedure or protocol for this situation. Right now, I could use any advice I can get about how to proceed.”

“I will call you when Mr. Tucker is waking,” the doctor spoke in a forlorn tone. “He will need a good friend when I explain what we have discovered.”

Nodding, Captain Archer strode out of Sickbay. Heading for the turbolift, Jon stopped long enough on the bridge to order Ensign Mayweather to hold a parallel course with the Xyrillian vessel. Striding to his ready room, Archer handed the bridge to Lt. Reed and demanded Subcommander T’Pol attend him. The discussion between them was short and expected.

“A Vulcan would never find themselves in this situation,” she responded acidly.

The tone reminding the Captain of the scene in Sickbay five days earlier, when they’d first uncovered Trips pregnancy. It had been funny at the time. It wasn’t so humorous any longer, especially with Ah’len’s confession.

“That is not the question I asked,” Archer almost shouted, a note of near hysteria in his tone. Taking in a sharp breath, the Captain calmed his emotions, before turning on his First Officer with a glare. “I get that you don’t like Trip and the feeling seems mutual. We’ve all noticed how you two argue. Hell, I hand picked him to be my Frist Officer, until you decided you outranked him on a Starfleet vessel.”

The Science and now First Officer glared, not that the Vulcan would admit to it.

“That’s not the point,” Archer rubbed his eyes warily. “We’re talking about a species that didn’t bother to tell one of my crew they were preforming a sexual act. The box of pebbles wasn’t the transfer medium, it was the device Ah’len used to assess establish if Trip knew she was attracted to him. Ah’len hand fed cubes of water to Trip, even after he insisted humans preferred to do it themselves. The electrical potential passing between them every time they touched deposited a small amount of genetic material. By the time Trip left, Ah’len confessed she deliberately took any opportunity, because she was fascinated with my Chief Engineer.”

“I have been in error,” T’Pol stated emotionlessly, “with respect to Commander Tucker’s behaviour on that away mission.”

“Damn right you have,” Archer stated heatedly. “I’ve known Trip eight years, saved his life once. He’s a gentleman. That’s what attracts the ladies, but he never treats anyone disrespectfully.”

Nodding, the Vulcan searched her memory for any First Contacts that might be similar, not wanting to speak of the overly emotional, irrational and irritating Commander. “On first encountering the Xyrillian’s,” T’Pol’s tone became thoughtful. “That is not correct. They hid in our warp field, cloaked, causing malfunctions, without attempting to communicate or requesting aid. A demonstration of force was required to establish this First Contact.”

Archer’s glaze arrowed on the Vulcan. Allowing her time to process her theory and compare it to the known facts, the Captain considered where this was going. He didn’t like the obvious conclusions.

“I doubt they would have actively sought our help,” T’Pol reasoned. “Logical suggests the Xyrillian’s mode of operation is clandestine where possible.”

“We had to uncover them,” Archer agreed. “Their first words were don’t hurt us. The Xyrillian’s complied immediately with all our requests, as if docile and accommodating.”

“You have come to the same assumption,” T’Pol allowed that eyebrow to rise. “Although their cloaking and holographic technology is superior, their engine design is unreliable.”

“If you’re saying they’ve hitched a ride before,” the Captain responded, “I think you might be right. Which means they’ve pissed off more than just Humans. Terna’l stated they’ve had multiple first contacts. The fact they described the decompression process so easily on a new species proves how many times they’ve been forced to used it.”

“Indicating their engineering development is inferior,” T’Pol supplied. “The Vulcan database has never encountered a species using Teraphaic warp technology. I have read Commander Tucker’s report. Their propulsion systems are unique.”

“Maybe, they deliberately target other species Engineers,” Archer finished. “Who better to improve their technology, make it consistant with mainstream development, especially with their unique environmental conditions.”

“Enterprise has set course for Xyrillian,” T’Pol observed, analysing what little information they had. “Lt. Reed was unimpressed when Commander Tucker could not give specifications on weapons system, or any other systems.”

“It seems,” Jon agreed, “Ah’len kept Trip busy in the engine room much of the time. When they had a few hours to spare, she dazzled him with their re-sequenced photons.”

“I am sure Commander Tucker would have found both the experience,” T’Pol stated, “and technology fascinating.”

Ignoring the snipe, Archer concentrated on the second half of the statement. “Hell of a way to distract an engineer from exploring the rest of their vessel.”

“Indeed,” the Vulcan’s eyebrow rose.


	3. Chapter 3

After T’Pol left the ready room, Archer sat behind his computer terminal. In truth, he awaited a com from Phlox to get his butt down to Sick Bay. Eight years of friendship with Trip meant the bond between them was tight and Jon couldn’t believe how unsympathetically he’d initially treated that friend. Sure, Trip had laughed this whole pregnancy thing off at first, but, damn it, a member of his crew had been physically and psychologically attacked. As the Captain, it was Archer’s job to protect those under his command. Less than a month into their five-year journey and he’d failed spectacularly. More than a dozen reports awaited Archer’s attention, yet, Jon couldn’t muster enough energy or concern to be bothered with them. Trip, and his sudden, unexpected pregnancy took all of Archer’s active mind, not to mention a large part of his subconscious as well.

“Damn those Xyrillian’s,” he shot out of his seat and began to pace in the limited space of his ready room. “After our mission to get Klang home, this is our first real contact with another species, besides the Axanar. At least they had a reason for wanting to leave in the shortest time possible. They were going to, well, I guess do whatever they do with their dead.”

Pausing, Jon thought about the incident. At first the Axanar had been hostile. Commander Tucker had wanted to be on that away mission. Jon hated not having his Engineer with him, but there’d been no need. That changed after finding the bodies, so Trip got his visit to the alien vessel.

Shaking his head, Jon recalled the Chief Engineer’s glee when he found out about the Teraphaic warp drive. It was like seeing a kid in a candy shop. “Trip was so anxious to get onto their stranded ship, that I sent him in alone,” the Captain berated himself. “That won’t be happening again any time soon. Maybe if there’d been another member of Enterprise on the away team, one of my crew wouldn’t have been violated.”

Siting once again, Captain Archer considered the ramifications of this event. Not just to the individual involved, but to the entire crew and humanity in general. He came to the unsettling conclusion, that maybe, just maybe, the Vulcan’s restrained methods had more than a little merit.

“Hell,” Archer swore, “we have to be more reserved in our interspecies interactions. While our mandate is to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before, the price has to be worth it. Harm to a single member of my crew is not the price I want to pay. It’s not what I signed up for. It’s not what Commander Tucker signed up for either.”

“If I’ve learnt anything from this encounter,” Jon huffed, “it’s to ask more questions, find out about a species culture before rushing in to help. We have to protect ourselves first, not put humanity in the middle of something we don’t understand.” Smirking, Archer knew what T’Pol would think of these revelations. “I’m not going to take all your Vulcan ideals and make my crew follow them. But, I’ve learnt that, maybe, caution is the better part of valour.”

Half an hour later, he received a com from Phlox. Coming to several decisions, the Captain rocketed onto the bridge. Crossing the space, he jammed a finger onto the button, calling the turbolift.

“I’ll be in sick bay,” Jon informed the officers on the bridge as he stepped into the car. Not allowing the door to close, Archer handed command to T’Pol. “I want suggestions for first contact situations on my desk by the end of the next shift. We’re going to set down a new protocol that protects every member of this crew.”

“Aye, Sir,” Malcolm Reed answered into the deepening silence. Followed by nods form the rest of the bridge crew.

For her part, the Vulcan simply allowed an eyebrow to rise, as if saying “about time”.

The short walk gave the Captain time to think. Jonathan Archer couldn’t imagine how he’d take this situation, it he were the one carrying an alien baby. Trip had put up with a lot of sideways glances and out right teasing in the last week. An enigma like this, on a small ship, was never going to stay secret. Everyone knew Commander Tucker appeared to be a lady’s man, flirted outrageously and was attractive. Jon didn’t want to consider how that thought would evolve in some people’s minds.

 _Yet, Trip’s going to have to face unwanted comments that just aren’t true. Hell, I’ve seen Trip hit on by men_ , Archer smirked, _and seen him reject them with the same Southern Gentleman routine he uses on the women he’s not interested in. However, if Tucker’s interested, well, he always hits his mark. Even so, even if he was attracted to Ah’len, her actions were very deliberate. She experimented on Trip, deriving sexual pleasure from the contacts without informing Commander Tucker of the significance. Any which way you look at it, cultural and species differences included, this is rape and now we have to deal with the consequences._

Entering Sick bay, Archer rushed over to his friend. Automatically, Jon placed a hand on Tucker’s shoulder, as much to reassure himself as to support Trip. Tucker shook it off and turned to face the wall. His body stiff and unmoving, a blanket covered the engineer from ear to toe. Except for the violent shake forcing the Captain to remove his touch, Trip refused to acknowledge anyone.

“How long has he been like this?” The Captain demanded, eyes wide with worry.

“I’ll get the doctor,” Ensign Elisabeth Cutler muttered, before flying to the communications panel.

Allowing a sigh to escape, Archer carefully made his way around the biobed. As expected, Trip’s eyes were closed, ignoring him. Twice in the last few days the Captain had seen tears well in those crystal-clear blues. Today, the stress of this situation seemed too much for the engineer. The salty expression of his shame and depression creating tracks down Trip’s cheek and onto the pillow.

“Talk to me, Trip,” Archer pleaded.

“No,” came the mumbled response.

Playing the waiting game, Archer once again placed his hand on Trip’s shoulder. He could feel the slight vibrations. Unsure if they were silent sobs, or his friend’s attempt to remove the touch, Jon refused to lose contact. “I’ll wait as long as I have too,” Archer whispered. “Open your eyes, Trip.”

“I don’t know how you can look at me,” Tucker stated in a soft, distant voice. “I let her do this to me.”

“No, Trip,” Jon spoke with authority, “you didn’t let anything happen to you. Ah’len took advantage of the fact you didn’t understand their customs. She abused your trust. This is not your fault.”

“Then,” anger this time, mixed with a liberal dose of shame as those baby blues opened, filled with hostility, “how come I’m the one who ended up like this?”

 _Careful how you answer this one, Jon, it could make all the difference,_ Archer closed his eyes for a moment to think. It was a major error in judgement.

“If you really believe that,” Trip forcefully removed the Captain’s hand and covered his head with the blanket, “you’d be able to look me in the eye, just like you wanted me too. You can’t even do that. You’re ashamed of me.”

Sighing, Archer removed the covering. Forcing his friend onto his back, Jon stood over the prostrate man, placed a hand on each shoulder and forced him to sit up slightly by raising the back of the biobed. Although Commander Tucker wouldn’t look at him, Jon knew he had to get thought to his friend. “I needed time to think, Trip. I don’t want to say or do anything that’s going to make this situation worse.”

“How can it get any worse,” anger laced the words, eyes blinking open. The rage within them astounding.

 _At least he’s talking_ , Archer held a neutral expression. He’d never seen Trip this angry. _I have to keep my calm, let him talk, to get this out._

“I’m pregnant with an alien baby,” the volume increased with each word. “I was raped and didn’t even know it. What kind of man does that make me?”

“One that’s been used against your knowledge and will, Trip,” Jon confirmed, softly, his gaze never leaving his friends. It made promises to always be there. “Through no fault of your own, you have been sexually assaulted. Ah’len took advantage of you, the fact you didn’t know how Xyrillian’s demonstrated sexual pleasure. She took that from you without your consent.”

Calming with the validation, Trip laid down again, covering himself with the blanket as if hiding. “I don’t feel safe,” he confessed in a sudden and frightening change of mood. “Don’t leave me.”

“I can’t be with you all the time, Trip,” Jon stated carefully but firmly, once again placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know your confidence has taken a hit, that’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up. You can count on me, on our friendship, to get you over this.”

“Captain,” Phlox interrupted. He’d responded to Cutler’s call. Standing and watching the interaction between Captain Archer and Commander Tucker had been enlightening. Obviously, the younger man felt safe in the company of his long-time friend. Safe enough to express his emotions. Emotions, the Doctor knew, that would become more volatile as he told the young man about his condition. “Mr. Tucker, I’m afraid I have something I need to tell you.”

“Do you really think this is the time?” Jon shuddered, instinctively understanding what Phlox was about to say.

“It’s better we get the realities of the situation sorted,” the Denobulan stated. “That way Mr. Tucker can come to terms with them more quickly.”

With that proclamation, Trip once again found himself sitting up on the biobed. The safety and warmth of the blanket torn from his face. The world, the truth intruded into his little surreal cacoon. The only thing that mattered seemed to be Jon’s steady presence in the form of a hand on his shoulder. Like the man he’d come to know, it was steadfast and comforting.

“Doc,” the Engineer swallowed after hearing the unusually concise explanation in easy to understand language, “you’re telling me, I have to carry this baby to term. If you try to take it out of me now, the operation would most probably kill me.”

“I’m afraid so, Commander,” Phlox sated. Not a shred of his jovial personality on display. “We are following the Xyrillian vessel back to its homeworld. In approximately four weeks, the foetus will be ready for extraction. Of course, there is the question of when to transfer the child to its biological parent. I suggest we do so as quickly as possible and be on our way.”

“It not a decision we need to make right now, Trip,” Jon added carefully.

“Hell, it isn’t. I want this thing out of me. I don’t care if it kills me,” Tucker stated vehemently. “I never asked for it. I don’ t even know how it happened. She said it wasn’t the box of pebbles. What the hell did they do to me over there? Was it while I was sleeping? Is that when she implanted this thing in me?”

“No, Trip,” Jon sighed. Looking up at Phlox, he requested privacy.

Nodding, the doctor left the friends alone for the discussion. It took several minutes of soft conversation before the Commander’s furiously irritated tone reached him. A few more seconds and the tears started.

 _This,_ Phlox tried to look on the bright side, _is to be expected. Healing will take time and patience. I’m afraid the Commander is experiencing the first two stages of grief simultaneously. Guilt/Shame and Anger/Blame. I suspect he’s been dealing with the first by internalising his emotions, treating this pregnancy with humour. I just hope the Captain understands how much is support will be needed in the coming days._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just flowed. After all the reading I’ve done in regard to sexual assault, I hope it comes across of realistic. I just cannot see an episode like this seriously affecting the rest of the show, the policies and protocols of Enterprise, the crew and their ideas on exploration, especially as the producers placed it so early in the series. I guess that’s why they just laughed it off. It might have meant less sexualisation of the show and more serious content. I do applaud the episodes Cogenitor and Similitude, they were thought provoking for me personally and the audience. While they tackled controversial subjects, they still didn’t go far enough with the personal reactions or effect on the crew.

“Do you feel up to eating?” Jon asked as he entered Trucker quarters.

Trip glared. Clothed in the civilian garb, due to the ever-growing bulge on the Engineer’s left side, he remained seated on his bunk. However, Tucker’s stomach took that exact moment to rumble, loudly.

“Okay,” Archer responded, holding his hands up. “But I’m not letting you hide out in here for the rest of your pregnancy. Get used to me using that terminology, Trip. Like it or not, you're pregnant. You, I, the crew, **_we_** have to deal with this. Sitting in your quarters is unhealthy. So, how about we go to my dining room, the back way,” he added when it looked like Tucker would refuse. “You know, you’re going to have to face everyone, eventually.”

“You think so,” Tucker commented sarcastically.

“It would be almost impossible,” Jon tried for a light humorous tone, “to avoid people completely on a ship this size for the next four weeks.”

“Yah, well, maybe,” Trip’s cheeks coloured with anger, “flinging myself out of the nearest airlock might not be such a bad idea.”

Pausing, Captain Archer drew in a sharp breath. Squaring his shoulders, he grabbed hold of his friends chin and yanked it up. Trip’s stunned blue eyes watched the emotions he’d invoked. “Let’s get one thing straight, Commander,” Jon stated in a quiet, deadly voice, “you are going to get through this. You’re going to feel emotions you never thought possible. Shame, guilt, weakness, pain and a million others I probably don’t know exist or understand. But,” stopping Trip before he could shoot his mouth off, “you are going to come to me, no matter the time or place, and tell me what’s on your mind. You are **_not_** going to fling yourself out of an airlock, or do anything else to harm your person. There are too many people on this ship who care about you. Is that clear.”

Once again Archer got the glare. He was getting used to that expression. It seemed to be the only one Trip wore since being released from sick bay earlier in the day. Phlox had limited visitors, allowing the Commander time to come to terms with the information he’d been given in relation to how the pregnancy had been achieved and what it meant in terms of the next month. To say Tucker didn’t like the options was an understatement. He’d pleaded to return to his quarters.

Phlox agreed, only if he was escorted by the Captain. So, Jon once again left the bridge with T’Pol in command to rush to Sick Bay during his shift. Before leaving, the doctor reiterated the need for regular exercise, a balanced prenatal diet, regular check up with vitamin shots and limited work hours. None of which Trip would enjoy. The very emotional and hormonal man had three hours to think about his situation before Archer dropped by after his shift ended. Unfortunately, Jon was wearing the brunt of the Engineer’s fury.

On top of that, Jon had been given a reading assignment about the psychological trauma of sexual assault. The article Phlox particularly wanted Captain Archer to read was on women sexually assaulting men. Such situations proved more difficult to treat, as rape involved the element of power, rather than the act of intercourse. In this respect, Commander Trip Tucker met all the criteria. A formidable man, under most circumstances, in the prime of his life, shouldn’t be subjugated by a woman half his size and weight. And he damn well shouldn’t end up pregnant.

“Crystal,” Trip spat with rage, “Sir.”

“Good,” Jon pretended not to hear the fury. “Then we’d better go. Chef will have dinner on the table in a few minutes.”

“Will T’Pol be joining us?” the words were on the edge of insolent as Trip opened the door. Glancing out, he indicated Jon should go first.

“Not tonight,” Archer hesitated.

The journey from Phlox’s domain to Tucker’s quarters taught the Captain a lesson. Trip had become hyper vigilant since understanding he’d been raped. If a crew member got to close, he’d shy away from physical contact, almost hiding behind his friend. Eyes no longer met the person who spoke to him and he mumbled a response that meant little. It drew more attention than simply stating he was doing well and moving on. Rumour had spread like wild fire. Jon knew he had to put it down, but wasn’t sure how.

Buoyed by the fact it would be just the two of them, Trip relaxed a little as they entered the Captain’s private dining room. Tucker once again became tense when the steward entered, until he smelt the catfish. Few words were spared as the pair ate, or more precisely, the Commander devoured the food on his plate and requested another serving. However, there was a subject Captain Jonathon Archer needed to introduce but felt reluctant to mention.

“Trip,” he’d waited until desert had been served. “I think it would be best if we got this situation out in the open.”

“You promised to keep it between the four of us,” Tucker threw down his fork. The pecan pie suddenly turning sour in his mouth. In fact, Trip’s stomach roiled at the thought of anyone else knowing.

“It’s past the time we can hide the evidence,” Jon spoke softly, indicating the pale-yellow long-sleeved shirt. “The crew need to know what really happened, to understand and support you though this.”

“I don’t want them looking at me like I did something to deserved this,” Trip shouted, bounding out of his chair. It crashed on the floor, as he paced agitatedly.

“That’s why I’m going to make a ship wide announcement,” Jon stood, coming to stand behind the man now staring out at the star scape but not really seeing anything, “about new protocols for away missions. No one is to go into any situation alone. Frist contacts will require cultural information on the species prior to physical meeting. I’m not taking this lightly, Trip. I want to use your particular situation to explain why I’m making this decision. I never want to have another member of my crew experience what you have.”

“Can,” Trip tried gallantly to stop, then hide the tears, “I have some time to think about it?”

“I’m still taking suggestions as to the new protocols,” Jon clapped a hand on Tucker’s shoulder in support. “Let’s give you tomorrow to think about it.”

Sighing, the Engineer’s posture slumped. “I guess the crew already knows about the baby?”

“Afraid so,” Jon concurred. Lying at this stage wouldn’t do any good. “You know, if there’s not a rumour in circulation by 1000, then make one up.”

“You really think,” Trip turned, his blue eyes pleading, “that knowing the truth, people will believe me?”

“Not everyone,” Archer sounded sorrowful. “A man convinced against his will…”

Pivoting back to the window, Tucker continued to stare, but saw little. His mind was too mixed up to really think rationally. In the same situation, he knew what would go through his mind. The doubts that the crewman had kept his hands to himself, especially with a reputation as a womaniser. As far as the pregnancy thing was concerned, it would be funny, if he heard the story while downing a couple of beers.

 _This_ , Trip told himself, _is nothing like that old move, what was it called, Junior. I’ve made human history for all the wrong reasons. First interspecies sexual assault resulting in the first interspecies pregnancy, only male to carry a baby to term. Sure, I came out here to explore. I just didn’t expect to be prayed on by the first alien woman I met because she found me attractive and thought that gave her the right to her version of sex with me._

“Trip,” Jon spoke softly, “finish up your desert, then I’ll walk you back to your quarters.”

“I’m not an invalid,” Tucker stated, his tone low and lethal.

“I know that,” Jon responded, trying to keep his own emotions under control. “If you don’t want company, then you just need to tell me. This isn’t easy for any of us, Trip. You’re not the only one feeling guilty. I sent you over to that ship without a second thought about your personal safety, about what might happen to you that we humans consider inconceivable. I’m trying my best to make the changes so it won’t happen to anyone again.”

“Hell, Jon,” Trip turned and finally looked at his friend. “This isn’t your fault.”

“It’s not yours either,” Archer stated forcefully, “but it’s happened and we need to deal with the consequences. Those consequences are going to make a big impact on your life for the next month, longer psychologically.”

Sighing, Tucker could feel his emotions roiling within him. He went from fury to guilt to hurt in seconds. “Mind if I take the pie for later. I’m not sure I’m up to it at the moment. Besides, this,” pointing to the bulge, Trip closed his eyes, and muttered the word, “baby wants a snack before bed time. I’m going to put on so much weight with all the sweets I’m eating.”

“Didn’t you say the Xyrillian diet is high in sugar?” Archer asked, putting up an extra slice on Trip’s plate, followed by a cover so he could take it with him. “Ask Phlox about it. I’m sure he’ll have some thoughts on the matter. You know, the Doc’s your best resource at the moment. Don’t shut him out.”

“Shit,” the Commander shook his head, “I have to see the Doc. I…I think I’d like some company. It’s kind of embarrassing, all the questions he asks.”

“You got it,” Archer nodded. “Just let me call the steward and have this delivered to your quarters.”


	5. Chapter 5

“How are you feeling, Commander,” Phlox asked. Over the last fortnight he’d learnt to stand back and let the Engineer air his emotions before starting his examination. Things went a lot more smoothly that way. Also, it gave the doctor a good understanding of how Mr. Tucker was coping psychologically. He’d come a long way in such a short time, with the Captain’s help and support of most of the crew.

“My ribs under the baby hurt like hell,” Trip reported easily. “Every breath is becoming torture.”

“You know my answer to that, Mr. Tucker,” Phlox stated, his expression becoming serious. “I’d rather you chose to stop work for yourself, than have me force the issue.”

Sighing, Trip looked the doctor in the eye. “I told the Captain at breakfast this morning that I’m taking myself off the duty roster. Lt. Hess is now the acting Chief, although I need something to do, so she’ll bring me the daily reports. I can still read and make decisions, at least for another week. I’m going to make the announcement to my staff after we’re finished my first check up for the day. Then the Captain will make it official.”

“Good,” Phlox was happy he didn’t need to fight the Engineer on this point. “Anything else?”

Looking embarrassed, Trip looked around to make sure they were alone. “Did the Xyrillian information say anything about, well,” taking his hand away from his groin, the doctor could see the issue. “It’s like this all the damn time. Doesn’t matter how much hand washing I do, it just won’t go below half mast, if you know what I mean.”

“Indeed,” Phlox tried, really tried, not to smile. “It’s a normal human response in late pregnancy. Hormones getting the body ready to expel the baby.”

“But,” confused, Trip added, “this isn’t a human baby! You said my genes weren’t compatible with Ah’len’s so she’s basically a clone of her mother!”

“Your body’s not aware the foetus is alien, even if it’s responding to the foreign object as if you had the ability to carry a child. Amazing, Xyrillian biology and biochemistry able to mimic human hormones, to fool the male physique this way,” the doctor responded with a noise he usually kept for startling situations. “How’s the nausea, gone, good. Indigestion, well, I’m sure you’re happy you’ve never had that symptom. Dizziness, to be expected, just get up slowly. You’re carrying an extra two kilos of water in your cardiovascular system and the body needs time to redistribute all that fluid. Legs swelling, raise them at night.”

“How the hell can I do that,” Trip started to get angry, “when I have to sit up to breathe? You tried carrying an extra few kilos on one side of your chest? I feel lopsided all the damn time.”

“You know the answer to that one, Mr. Tucker,” Phlox watched the young man’s expression. Allowing the Commander to take authority over his physical wellbeing, to make this own decision on when to stop work had been the Captain’s suggestion. _Trip really doesn’t like to be told what to do. Give him the data, Doc, and let him make up his own mind. He’s more intelligent than most people give him credit. It’ll give him the feeling of control, something I know he’s lacking at the moment._

“I’ll bring my own pillow tonight if it’s all the same to you,” Trip huffed. Secretly, he felt better making the decision to sleep in sick bay for the rest of his pregnancy. The Doc never slept, except his six days of hibernation once a year, meaning he’d never be alone. If this kid did cause any problems, Phlox would be at his side in a moment. As his due date approached, Trip found himself becoming more anxious. “I kind been having trouble sleeping anyway.”

“Short naps, several times a day will help,” Phlox informed.

“I been doing that for a week now,” Tucker shook his head. “I sit down to a meal with the Captain and T’Pol, then find myself dozing. The pair of them just continue to talk and act like its noting.”

“How are your relationships with the rest of the crew?” It was the question Phlox really wanted to discuss. He was aware that not everyone had taken the Commander’s pregnancy at face value.

“Mostly fine,” Trip sighed. “I’m still getting some grief from a few. They either think it’s funny or I deserved what I got. I’m learning to ignore their glares and the Captain’s closed down their comments. Some of the women are wanting to touch my bludge. It’s intrusive and getting worse, the bigger she grows.”

“She, Commander?” the doctor did his best T’Pol imitation, his eyebrow over both eyes reaching skyward.

“Well, I have to call it something, besides the baby,” Trip’s eyes softened. “I know she can’t survive in this environment after I get her out. That she needs to go back to Ah’len. But…”

“Yes,” Phlox waited, patiently.

“I’m trying not to get attached, Doc,” Trip whined. “It’s hard. I always wanted kids, not this way mind you. But, she’s relying on me and I feel responsible, even if her mother forced this one me. You can’t take Ah’len’s actions out on an innocent.”

“True,” came the answer.

“Hell, what am I supposed to do,” Tucker jumped down from the biobed and started to pace the room. “It’s not like Ah’len’s been that interested in her welfare since she found out. The Captain had to force me to speak to that woman, not that it helped much. She still doesn’t see anything wrong with her actions, refuses to understand my point of view. It makes me so mad, that she won’t take responsibility for her daughter, let alone that she forced her attention where they weren’t wanted. I’ve learnt to say the word, Doc. Ah’len raped me. I’ve been raped. This is not my fault. This is all her fault. If she’d just left well enough alone!”

“Xyrillian children,” Phlox stated softly, ignoring the fact that Tucker had made a significant mental breakthrough by using the word rape in relation to himself for the first time, “are brought up in an extended family environment. This child will be transferred to its clan and cared for by those whose vocation is to raise the young. The baby has no human DNA. She needs to fit into her society, no matter how her conception occurred. We have been over this before, Commander. You have entered the nesting phase.”

“I just want to know she’s safe,” Trip demanded, turning and glaring. “I’m not sure leaving Xyrillia immediately is a good idea anymore. I need to know…”

Patting the confused man on the shoulder, Phlox knew there was nothing he could say to help. Getting the message, Trip laid on the biobed and let the doctor get to the actual scan. After the obligatory hypospray of nutrients especially formulated for the baby and Trip’s now crazy metabolism, he was free to go.

“I’ll see you tonight, Doc,” Trip stated.

Nodding, Phlox watched the Commander leave, truly worried for the first time. His gate was getting worse, the bulge obvious from all directions, the now broken ribs caused constant pain. “And those are only the physical issues,” the Denobulan sighed. “I’m afraid Mr. Tucker is getting to attached, emotionally, to this child. While we continue to move through the stages of grief, I’m afraid they will return when this pregnancy comes to an end.”


End file.
